What Lies Beneath
by Caralin942
Summary: Kaeris is an Andalite recluse. Christine is the host for a Visser. When their paths cross, their lives will never be the same again. Mature for swearing and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**All in all/You're no good/You don't cry/Like you should - **What Lies Beneath- Breaking Benjamin

_Are you SURE you're real? Cause, y'know, I've always wondered about existence, and this sure as hell proves my point._

Sub Visser Twenty-two, Caralin 942 would have gnashed her teeth if she had any, so she settled for gnashing her host's teeth instead. Her host went silent again, lost in his own wanderings, and for that, Caralin was grateful. She focused back on dressing her host for court- her host was being tried for drug possession- something she would just use her rank to bluff her way out of, but the judge for this trial was not a Controller.

Caralin 942 of the Sulp Niar was an older Yeerk, and had worked her way up the ranks ruthlessly, with precision. Her first host had been a female Hork-Bajir during the taking of the Hork-Bajir home world.

She pulled on the button down shirt, scowling at the weak human hands. She was used to having a powerful bladed body that tore enemies apart seamlessly. She was used to being a body guard for Vissers. Now she was a recruiter for the Sharing, in the body of a failure of a drug addict, recruiting fellow felons. Her host believed her to be a figment of his drug addled imagination, that his inability to control his body was the result of a good high. Caralin saw no reason to discourage this belief, and encouraged it for the most part. If only he would shut up.

_I am a Sub Visser! _She roared to herself as her host began humming placidly to himself. _I should be in a powerful body, working for a VISSER, not fooling around with scum!_

She sighed and resumed getting dressed, her anger spent. She would have a better host. She would prove she could be a Visser. Maybe she would even prove she was worthy to work at Visser Three's side. She had been a body guard for him once. He'd lost his temper at Iniss 226 and her host had been rendered useless when both legs had been removed in the Visser's rage. Caralin still seethed over the loss of her host. She never got close to Daf Hajil, but they had become used to each other after so long, and it was bothersome getting used to a new body. She swore she would do better than Iniss and surpass him, but so far she was still in the body of a drug addict.

_I will have a better host. I will surpass Iniss 226_, she thought, slipping on the long trench coat and concealing a dracon beam in the lining with a smirk. The officers who ran security were Controllers and wouldn't even blink at the weapon. At least as a Sub Visser she was allowed the luxury of protecting herself.

She looked in the mirror once last time and sneered, the thin lips of her host twisting cruelly. Her host was French and Irish, with a proud chin and aquiline nose, bright blue eyes, pale skin and bright red hair. He was attractive by human standards, or would have been, if not for the sunken cheek bones and bruise-like bags under his eyes.

_Take a good long look_, she told herself before sweeping from the room. _As of today, I am on the market for a new host, and I will find one that is not a complete and utter failure. _

********

Caralin sighed to herself, ignoring her host's rambling as she made her way to the stand. Not like it mattered if she were convicted- she knew Visser Three would be furious at her, but she was getting a new host today. A better host. A host with power. A lawyer…one of the powerful predators that lurked in the courtroom. She wanted one.

Then she saw her.

The human female strode into the room with the loping gait of one of earth's big cats that she had seen attack the pool. Her green eyes glinted dangerously as they fell on Caralin's host, and her stubborn jaw set in determination. She casually flicked a lock of thick dark brown hair off her shoulder, and her generous lips pursed in distaste. She wore a dark grey suit pinstriped with lavender, Italian leather loafers and had sunglasses perched precariously on top of her head. A tiny silver medallion hung around her neck, and Caralin could see it was a pendant of the Archangel Michael.

Watching her tear her host apart in front of the judges and jury made her shiver with delight. There was no remorse in her glittering green eyes, only the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline rush of enjoying her profession. Her face, so predatorily, yet calm and collected as she insulted her host without openly calling him any derogatory terms, was simply beautiful. The intelligence! The power! It HAD to be hers! Caralin simply followed her host's reactions to the court proceedings- the lout still believed himself to be in a stupor, that he was still himself, that Caralin was just a hallucination in his addled mind.

Caralin waited for the sentences to be read, a plan already formulating in her mind, a desperate turmoil rushing through her, her host's stomach clenching in a reflection of her own nerves. Caralin couldn't afford to lose her; She WOULDN'T lose her! She was HERS, and with her, she could do so much more than this pathetic bag of drug addled flesh. Finally, court was dismissed. Caralin shuffled her host through the aisle towards her.

"May I discuss my sentences with you, Miss Weiß?" Caralin asked in her hosts sleek voice- the male human was a sorry sack of bones, but he was decently attractive and had a pleasant voice that she was now going to utilize.

"Wery vell," she replied, her German accent sending shivers down her spine. Caralin locked eyes with her and smiled, following her into a consultation room. She shut the door behind her and gave her a once over.

"Vat can I assist you vith, Mister Mi-"

Caralin caught her in the jaw with a strong fist. Lanky as this host was, his arms were strong. She crumpled to her knees, and she gave her stomach a blow with her knee. She fell to the floor. Caralin kneeled over her, her host's heart pounding in apprehensive excitement as she pressed her ear to hers, disconnecting with Michaux's mind.

For an instant Caralin was blind, cut off, but all she could focus on was her ear canal. She pushed through it and felt her back half slide completely from her former host. She squirted the numbing chemicals, gently pushed past the tympanic membrane, around the delicate bones. Electricity jumped and pulsed ahead. Her brain! It was hers! Caralin wrapped around it lovingly, tenderly, sinking into every crack, every crease, connecting to her as intimately as the membrane around her brain itself. As Caralin finalized the connection, Christine came to.

_Was sind Sie? Was tun Sie? GEHEN SIE HINAUS! (What are you? What are you doing? GET OUT!)_ Caralin knew her native language now as she tapped into the language core of her mind.

_Get out? No, I don't think so, Christine Weiß_, Caralin said admiringly as her intelligence, her active mind flowed through her.

_Vhat the hell are you? Vhat are you doing? I can't control my body! GET OUT! _She screamed, and Caralin could feel how strong she was, battering against her control. Caralin laughed in admiration of her strength, but also in victory.

_No, Christine. You are the perfect host, and now that I have you, I'm NEVER letting go. _


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I am mortified. This was the wrong chapter that I had originally written for All I Wanted, and I put this in the wrong story. Forgive me!**

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**_"I don't want to be a legend, oh well that's a goddamned lie, I do. To say I do this for the people, I admit, is hardly true"- Swallow, Emilie Autumn_**

Kaeris moaned and opened his eyes, but shut them quickly as a feeling of vertigo overtook him. He realized quickly he was laying on his side on unfamiliar grass, cool night air tickling his fur. He tried to recollect the events from what seemed ages ago. The Blade Ship, hiding on the small moon, the _GalaxyTree_ overwhelmed, the Dome separated. Fighters being shot down left and right. Breeyar calmly, but urgently rapping out orders, trying to gather what pilots he could, then making the decision to descend to the planet's surface when other fighters were seen going down, Elfangor's included.

Their fighter had been shot by a Bug Fighter, and while not crippling to their ship, it had sent them spiraling faster towards the planet's surface. Breeyar had shouted orders to the computers, and Kaeris had scrambled towards the back of the ship from his spot at the weapons before he'd been flung against the bulkhead, and everything had gone black.

Kaeris tried opening his eyes again and was relieved to find his field of vision didn't sway and whirl in a way that made him want to expel his stomach's contents. A quick sweep over his body with a stalk eye showed him he wasn't gravely injured, but banged up. A gash on his flanks had only recently scabbed over, bruises were flaring angrily on his lower shoulders, and a large knot was quickly rising on the back left side of his head. He'd have to morph to avoid the concussion headache. He got to his hooves and looked for his _shorm._

_Breeyar?_ He asked tentatively. _Are you there?_

_Inside the ship_, came Breeyar's reply.

Kaeris skirted around a few large trees and approached the fighter, surprised to see it only had superficial damage. Breeyar was already working on repairing it, a utility belt strapped around his waist, a welder in his hands. He smiled weakly at his _shorm_.

_I am glad you are alright_, he said._ I moved you away from the ship while you regained consciousness. I did not want the heat from the welder to disturb you, should you have a concussion. _

_ I'm fine. Sore, but fine_, Kaeris said. _Are you alright?_

_ Fine now. I was banged up pretty bad, but a quick morph fixed it. Just a bit fatigued now. You should morph, _he said, eyeing the cut and bruises.

Without a word, Kaeris began morphing a kafit bird. Breeyar looked away, but a smile curled on his face. Kaeris was an _estreen_, but was embarrassed of the fact, as usually that talent was inherent in females. He tried not to morph in front of other males to avoid the teasing- even if he tried, Kaeris couldn't avoid his morphing from being almost beautiful to watch. He turned back to Kaeris just as he finished morphing back, an Andalite male with a line of purple feathers running from neck to rump. Kaeris flushed cobalt under his non-photo blue fur and went inside the ship to gather his utility belt and a welder.

_Any luck contacting anyone else? _He asked as he began work on the damaged weapons. Breeyar was quiet. They worked in awkward silence.

_No_, Breeyar finally answered._ Elfangor's ship completely disappeared. I believe the Abomination followed him to the surface._

Both War Princes were quiet as they worked. They both knew what that meant. Neither wanted to say it aloud. Neither wanted to admit the Andalite hero was dead. Kaeris snorted slightly, pawing a hoof as he fought with the shredder's mounting, trying to coax it back into place. Breeyar was frowning as he welded a bent atmospheric plate back into place. Kaeris sighed.

_So now what? Do we head home?_

_ You know we used a last minute Z-Space jump to get here. The next time Z-Space has a flux in our favor will be in a few months, if not a year. We do not have the supplies to make that long of a trip. Even if we did manage to run into the _StarBlade_, which is unlikely, as she's jumping to the other arm of the galaxy_, Breeyar said.

_So what, then? We just stay here? You and I have families we need to get home to! _Kaeris said, angry at Breeyar's apathy. He was just as upset over the loss of so many warriors, a glorious Dome Ship and a beloved hero as Breeyar was, but he seemed to be the one keeping things in perspective. Breeyar glared at him.

_You have a family to go home to. I do not. Not anymore_, he said, pain wracking every syllable.

_Breeyar, you both were hurt and said things you didn't mean! _Kaeris said hotly, dropping his formality._ She wanted you to stay; she was pregnant! Can you blame her for wanting you home? You enjoy being in the military, as do I. Both of you had conflicting interests. It was a rough gestation for her; she probably felt you were leaving to avoid the last trimester of her gestation._

Breeyar blinked, his main eyes going wide.

_But I didn't...,_he said quietly. Kaeris resisted the urge to bonk him on the forehead with his palm.

_I know that, and she probably did, too. She just wanted you to be there; you weren't there for Aslirion's birth. Can you blame her?_ Kaeris repeated, irritable he had to explain the obvious to his _shorm_. He scowled and went back to welding the last bolts on the shredder in silence, letting Breeyar digest what he'd said. The two of them continued to work in silence when a low hum was heard in the distance. Both Andalites looked at each other, eyes wide and tails lifting.

_Bug Fighter_, Kaeris hissed.

They leapt off the top of the fighter, gathered their tools and went inside. Breeyar huffed as he fumbled with the controls.

_I just hope the cloaking still works_, he muttered. _Computer, cloak on._

There was a slight hum and the cloaking activated. Breeyar and Kaeris sighed in relief. Breeyar turned to Kaeris, his expression angry.

_They're looking for survivors._

Kaeris simply swayed his eye stalks in acknowledgment. Since they were unable to go outside, they looked over the diagnostics, making sure the computers and the engines were in working order. Luck was with them it seemed; most of the damage had been superficial. The ship was in working order. Once assured the ship was functional, they went over their supplies. A makeshift collapsible scoop, grass seed, a large first aid kit, a pair of Z-Space capable two way communicators, a hologram projector, three hand-held shredders, an escafil device, and their personal belongings. Breeyar's picture of his family, the Wish Flower for his second child, and Isteillia's old paka doll; Kaeris' picture of Silrukea, his mother and father's marriage cord, and Silrukea's kafit bird doll.

_So now what?_ Kaeris asked. Breeyar looked at him calmly.

_Isn't it obvious? We go looking for survivors_, he said.

I_f we find any, and they don't have a working fighter, we won't have room- we can only fit two more full grown Andalites in this ship,_ Kaeris said. Breeyar frowned and stamped his back hoof. Kaeris looked up at Breeyar suddenly.

_Leave me here._

Breeyar whipped his head back as though he had been slapped.

_**WHAT?**__ Are you out of your mind? _He asked incredulously.

_Not permanently, you colt_, Kaeris snorted, snickering. _I can acquire a human, get a residence, and set up a base of sorts. We can bring back any survivors we find there and we can figure things out from there. I'm not a fighter; I'm a survivor. I'm a better morpher and you're a better fighter and pilot._

Breeyar weighed the situation a while before nodding.

_You're right. As loathe as I am to leave you here, I know you're right. You are the best morpher and you are able to control your morphs better than me._

_ That, and I can see if I can get some information on the Yeerks. I can do some reconnaissance while you're away. Get some information from them, see if they can give us clues on any survivors that they might be hunting_, Kaeris said. Breeyar nodded, looking impressed with his _shorm_.

_Good idea. Take the makeshift scoop and half the grass seed. Maybe you can find a way to cultivate it._

Kaeris nodded and winced. Earth grass was coarse and slightly bitter. He would gladly find a way to grow the grass if it meant not having to have a bellyache. The hum of the Bug Fighter faded as it finished its unsuccessful sweep of the area. Kaeris widened his eyes.

_We left scrap metal in the crash site! _He cried.

_No, it's good we did_, Breeyar said._ They'll think we repaired and flew off. They won't be as suspicious of this area._

_ Ever the quicker one_, Kaeris said, slightly put out he hadn't thought of that. He gathered his things and got off the ship. Breeyar looked at him worriedly.

_Be careful, Kaeris._

Kaeris simply reached forward with his tail and touched blades with his _shorm_. The two War Princes looked at each other for a long moment before Kaeris backed away reluctantly.

_Go. We don't have time for you to wait. The others, if there are any, don't have time. Go find them, Breeyar._

Breeyar nodded, looking pained, but he finally shut the hatch. The ship started with a warm bright whirr, and then vanished as the cloaking turned on. Kaeris stared in the direction he heard it leave in for a while until he was sure it was gone. He slung the bag containing his personal effects, seed, shredder, shelter and communicator over his lower back and melted into the woods.

*********

Caralin942 stretched luxuriously in her over-sized leather chair, kicking her feet up on the expensive oak desk. She examined her Italian leather shoes offhandedly, and thought to herself it was time to get a new pair. She listened to Serliss943, her brood sister, tell her clients the time and date of their appointment, and smirked as the couple enthused about their first meeting with The Sharing. She murred happily, arching her back and scratching her scalp indulgently, ruffling her thick dark brown hair. Things were going well, and she was a happy Visser. She swelled with pride. Visser Forty-Two. Quite the leap from Sub-Visser Twenty-Two, and it was all thanks to her host.

_You're awfully quiet, my dear, _Caralin simpered to her host. Christine merely snorted and was silent, but her anger and extreme dislike radiated from her.

Christine had initially been an involuntary host, but now she was reluctantly and begrudgingly compliant. It would be wrong to say she hated Caralin- she disliked her almost to the point of hate, but her curiosity and the predatory nature they shared kept her from hating her. Christine often asked Caralin questions about her species, her home world and everything else the Yeerk Empire exposed her to. Caralin admired her intelligence and curiosity so she indulged her, answering her questions and feeding her never ending curiosity. They had their arguments, especially over the fact that Caralin recruited all of Christine's clients to the Sharing- all of the clients that came to her were new hosts in the end.

Their major fight, and the reason Christine was compliant, was her father. The only child of a widower, the head of a powerful law firm in Christine's homeland, Germany, Christine was fiercely protective of her father. When Caralin voiced her thoughts on how her father would make a perfect host to extend the invasion overseas, Christine had revolted and had broken Caralin's control in the middle of a debriefing with Visser Fifteen, screaming and flailing. Caralin had been Visser Thirty-Nine then; Christine's rebellion had cost her three ranks. Christine swore she would cause such scenes and would continue to do so as long as her father was threatened. Having just earned her rank and wanting to go further, Caralin promised she would not start the invasion of Germany with her father, and would not let the other Vissers know of him. It wasn't shortly after that that she'd been assigned to the country's capital and the new pool that had been built there, to start the invasion on the east coast.

While this didn't make a friendship by any means, it did result in a begrudging agreement between the two of them. Caralin used Christine's career, power and government access to further her own success, and in return, she protected her host's father and fed her ever growing hunger for knowledge. Caralin admired her for that, loathe as she was to admit she even found something admirable in her host.

"Visser Forty-Two?" Serliss' voice said over the intercom. Caralin rotated her foot on the desk to tap the side button.

"Yes, Sub-Visser Eighty-Five?" She replied, lifting a brow. If her brood sister, the only other Yeerk she dared trust, was using her rank so formally, something was up.

"You have an urgent priority one call on 'Line Thirteen', Visser Forty-Two," Serliss said. Caralin took her feet off the desk, siting up. She immediately grabbed a brush from her drawer and combed out her thick mane of hair.

"Thank you, sister," she said.

Caralin stood up and hit a button under her desk with her foot. The top of the desk unfolded, a hologram emitter rising from the center. She tried to smirk but it failed. "Line Thirteen," the communications line high ranking Vissers or Council members used to contact their subordinates. She tried to steel herself for who might be contacting her, but there was no steeling anyone for the image that began to convalesce on her desk. The cold intelligent eyes stared directly at her, the mincing hooves pacing, the tail with its glittering blade flicking in impatience. Caralin struggled not to fall to her knees, but lowered her head. She tried to think of what she could have done wrong to get his attention. Had Visser Fifteen thrown another fit about Christine breaking free? She knew Visser Fifteen felt threatened by her; could he not let her host's rebellion go? She tried to keep the fear out of her voice as she spoke.

"Visser Three. Visser Forty-Two, Caralin942 of the Sulp Niar humbly answers to your call," she said in a low respectful tone.

The Visser stared at her, looking her over. She'd never been directly addressed by him before, and it was overwhelming to have that awful gaze on her. He paced a few more times, his main eyes running over her and looking over her office before he spoke.

"Visser Forty-Two. At last we make contact. I've heard good things about you and what you've been doing."

Caralin snapped her head up. The Visser was contacting her to commend her? What was this? As though he could read her thoughts, he smirked.

"I don't contact my subordinates through hologram emitter everyday for a pat on the back, I know," he said slyly. "However, you have done some very impressive things that need recognition. I trust you can spare a week or two from your host's career?"

"Y-Yes, Visser," she replied, wondering what he was getting at, but her stomach flipped. Did he realize what she'd been doing? He smiled, but it was cold and empty of any real feeling; it was the smile of a spoiled, indulgent dictator who was getting what he wanted.

"Good," he practically purred. "I've been wanting to meet you face to face for some time now. I want you at the Pool in DC in two hours. Transport will be arriving there."

"I- Y-yes, Visser," Caralin stammered. He smirked again.

"Don't be late, Visser Forty-Two. I abhor tardiness."

The transmission cut off and the transmitter sank back into her desk. She fell into her chair, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. After a few moments, she buzzed Serliss.

"Yes, Visser?"

"Sister, I need my car brought to the front, my dry cleaning taken to the pool within the hour, with my pre packed luggage," she said hurriedly. "Also, I will need you to watch my flat for the next week or so. Reschedule all my appointments and postpone my personal appointments." She moaned to herself mentally; she'd been looking forward to that spa day for a month now, and the waiting list was horrifyingly long.

"Yes, sister," Serliss said quickly, and Caralin could hear her getting up to bark orders at the Valet. Caralin threw on her jacket, grabbed her purse and exited her office, locking the doors. She looked at her brood sister fondly.

"I trust you to hold down the fort while I'm gone, Serliss," she said. Serliss smiled, her host's tanned Egyptian face brightening as she brushed a lock of thick glossy black hair behind her ear, her amber eyes the only indication of the worry she felt for her brood sister.

"Not to worry, Caralin. All will be kept in precise order."

Caralin kissed her sister on the cheek and swept from the office. Her car waited on her outside, the engine rumbling eagerly. She thanked the valet- Garftin863, and got into the black BMW. She pulled onto the highway, headed for the pool. Luckily, it wasn't far from her office, and traffic wasn't bad- even for Washington, DC. She got there in less than twenty minutes. She sauntered down the steps to the pool, a sway in her hips and a swagger in her step- the typical stride of a Visser.

"Out of the way!" She snapped, scattering her subordinates in her wake as she headed for the landing pad where a Hork-Bajir and human controller waited- Yarfin625 and Tedrin740, respectively. Tedrin looked nervous, but Caralin ignored him, fixing her gaze on Yarfin.

"Thank you, dear," she said as he laid her dry cleaning delicately in a garment bag on top of her luggage. The male Hork-Bajir smiled endearingly. He was one of Caralin's favorites- a personal bodyguard and a prospective Sub-Visser if she had any say. Tedrin coughed, and Caralin turned to face him, scowling.

"What, then?" She asked irritably.

"Visser, there's a....," he swallowed and pulled at his collar. A human habit born of fear. "There's a problem."

Caralin glared at him.

"What do you MEAN there's a problem?" She asked silkily, narrowing her eyes.

"The Andalite ship...there's no trace of it."

Caralin hissed, lunged at Tedrin and seized him by the throat, shaking him. Though his host was twice her size, he was little more than a shaking puppet under his Visser's anger.

"Vhat do you mean THERE'S NO TRACE OF IT!?" she seethed, her host's accent surfacing, her voice taking on a high pitch in her anger. Tedrin broke out into a sweat.

"It looks like the pilot landed it safely, repaired the damage and took off. We found a few scraps, but little else. The ship is gone and there's no sign of the Andalite, or any signs he could have vaporized the ship."

Caralin bared her bright white teeth at him, snapping them wolfishly as she hissed.

"You fool! That fighter vas supposed to be a gift for the Council! I should have gone after it myself!"

She slapped him across the face, leaving four long scores on his cheek from her manicured nails, then flung him back, watching him land on his backside.

"Get out of my sight, Tedrin, before I have Yarfin slice you thirty ways from Thursday!" She snarled. Yarfin cocked his head, grinning; it had been a while since his Visser had commanded him to kill anyone, and he was very fond of using his blades. Tedrin scuttled away, and Caralin sighed in a huff. Yarfin looked at her suit and frowned.

"Would you like to change, Visser? _Narfash elat_...enough time?" He asked, frowning as his Hork-Bajir brain mangled the English. Caralin smiled at her bodyguard.

"Thank you, Yarfin. I should change; I've been in my suit all day."

She opened the garment bag and pulled out her favorite pant suit, a charcoal grey number with lavender pinstripes and a matching camisole. She sauntered over to the executive office- a set of rooms normally used for meetings between herself, her subordinates and other Vissers who came to call. She shut the door behind her and pulled off her cocoa brown suit. She scowled, thinking about the loss of the Andalite ship as she pulled on her fresh suit.

The Dome Ship's defeat had been a great victory for the Empire, but it would have been a whole other story if any of the stray fighters had been found. It was no secret that at least four fighters had been seen headed for Earth. One had been fund crashed, the pilot an unidentifiable mess. The second was the Beast's and Visser Three had personally dealt with him. A smile curled Caralin's lip at the thought. That was one Andalite the Empire would not miss. Visser Three had earned a place in history as the Yeerk that had erased the biggest menace to the Empire. No single Andalite had ever dealt more damage, and his death had been celebrated throughout the Empire.

Caralin's scouts had reported seeing a fighter land in her region, and she wanted to capture it. Her mission, as she had announced to her subordinates that were helping her find it, was to capture the fighter and give it to the Council, to use the technology to advance their own. It was most likely that the pilot would end his own life before being taken, or the pilot would eventually abandon the craft, so her people were told not to bother with the Andalite until his craft was secured. Her private mission, however, was capturing the pilot and taking him for herself. She wanted an Andalite host. The pilot most likely would be male; Andalites never sent females into battle, but her dream was to have a female host- the grace, beauty and speed of an Andalite female. Another smile, cruel and wistful, curled her mouth. A female Andalite host would make her and Visser Three a handsome matched pair. If only Tedrin hadn't lost the ship.

"Damned fool," she sighed in agitation, slipping her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. Christine snorted and laughed.

_You're all fools, Caralin, for thinking that taking the human race vill be easy._

_ And here you are held prisoner by a fool, so what does that make you, love?_ Caralin retorted rummaging through her purse for her brush. Christine was silent.

Caralin preened, running the brush through her hair a smirk on her face as she left the room. She pulled some lip stain from her purse and applied it to her full lips as she went back to the landing pad. In a clean suit, hair brushed and makeup retouched, her mood was elevated a bit. She pulled out her sunglasses and set them jauntily on top of her head. She wondered if Visser Three himself was coming, or just a crew on a Bug Fighter.

_More likely the latter_, she thought. She wasn't even a single digit Visser; she was hardly worth Visser Three's personal time.

She paced, eyeing her titanium watch ever few minutes, Yarfin surveying the pool stoically. She wasn't late, but being early made her anxious as she waited. She wondered what the Visser had to say that needed to be said in person. She realized with a start that the thought of meeting him in person was making her stomach clench in nerves, and it wasn't entirely fear- it was excitement. She was excited to see him- after all, she hadn't seen him since he was known as simply Esplin9466.

She'd been two summers old when she was pulled from the Sulp Niar and into the stolen Andalite ship. She'd studied everything about everything when she'd gained access to the computers. She was interested in being a scientist, not a conqueror. Her siblings and peers had laughed at her lack of hunger for power, but Esplin had not, studying alongside her. Though he'd actually paid her little attention, she'd admired his intelligence and the common hunger for knowledge they'd shared.

_I wonder if he remembers me_, she thought.

_How cute_, Christine simpered, _Caralin has a crush_.

Caralin cursed to herself. She hadn't realized she'd thought that last part out loud.

_Guilty, Caralin? The almighty Wisser hast a veakness for another Yeerk?_

_ Shut up, livestock_, Caralin snapped. Christine fell silent, but not from the insult- she was used to them by now. Her silence- and Caralin's- stemmed from the roof of the pool opening and the Bug Fighter that was descending. There was a flicker of dust that rolled across the floor as it landed. Caralin stepped out of the way, the air ruffling her hair and jacket. She drew herself up, shifted her weight to one hip, to look in control, should her emissary be lower ranked than herself. The hatch opened, and Caralin instantly made herself look cowed, bowing her head when her gaze met his cold glittering eyes.

"Visser Three," she said humbly, "Visser Forty-Two, Caralin942 of the Sulp Niar welcomes you to the Washington DC pool."

_Visser. My dear, dear Visser Forty-Two_, Visser Three replied silkily, disembarking and stepping close, his tail held high and his weight shifted to his hindquarters. His smile was cold, but as genuine as anyone would ever see.

_You were here on time. Early, even._

"I have been here for an hour, my Visser," Caralin replied carefully. He laughed.

_I do appreciate not having to be made to waste my time, Visser. _

He eyed her luggage with his main eyes, his stalk eyes surveying the pool.

_The pool is in order, then? You have someone to handle affairs while you are away?_

"Yes, Visser Three. Sub-Visser Eighty-Five will handle things while I'm gone."

Visser Three tilted his head in acknowledgement.

_Very we__ll,_ he said, scanning the pool again. _Everything looks well maintained. No attacks on the pool?_

"No, Visser Three, there have not been any attacks. Things have been running smoothly and without interference," she said confidently. Visser Three turned his awful gaze on her.

_Now then. Let's be off. I have things to do and I need you with me._

Caralin blinked, but otherwise kept her composure as she followed the Visser into the Bug Fighter, Yarfin loading her luggage into the cargo hold. Caralin swallowed around a lump of fear as she was closed in the fighter with the Visser and a single human pilot.

_Take us back to the Blade Ship; I don't have much time_, Visser Three snapped. The fighter ascended slowly, and Caralin tried not to look too nonchalant, trying to look anywhere but the Visser's tail blade or directly in his eyes. She chewed her bottom lip as the awkward silence filled the cockpit. Visser Three shifted his weight comfortably on his hooves, swaying his tail ever so slightly. His stalk eyes continued to swivel around, watching everything. From her peripheral vision, Caralin could see him watching her with his main eyes. Christine made an odd sound.

_So that's an Andalite_, she said quietly._He's...he's terrifying._

_Yes_, Caralin responded just as quietly, as though she were afraid Visser Three could hear them. _The only Andalite Controller._

_I almost thought he looked kind, but evil seeps from him,_ Christine said.

_Don't let their bodies fool you, girl. Andalites have their hidden evils, too. No species is a saint._

_ Especially you Yeerks._

_ Says the species that destroys its own planet and fights its own people._

Visser Three peered quizzically at her.

_Host giving you problems?_ He asked. Caralin shook her head.

"No, Visser, she's never seen an Andalite before- she was curious and asking questions."

The Visser smirked and flicked his tail, the blade glittering as he flashed it, showing off. He arched his tail forward and ran the blade along her throat, almost caressing her neck with it. Caralin held perfectly still, and Christine fell silent. The Visser pulled his blade away and Caralin suppressed the urge to shudder, but shudder from what, she didn't know.

_Let's hope you keep pleasing me, Visser Forty-Two, so your pretty neck doesn't get more intimate with my blade_, he said, practically purring.

"Docking with the Blade Ship, Visser Three," the pilot said calmly, obviously ignoring the two Vissers as they sized each other up in their own way.

_Good. Come with me, Visser Forty-Two_, Visser Three said, opening the hatch and walking out into the Blade Ship, a stalk eye watching her as she followed him. Caralin felt a wave of interest from Christine. Curious, she pried into her thoughts, then recoiled.

_You're SICK, human,_ she snapped. _What is WRONG with you?_

Christine was smug and silent, enjoying the fact she'd upset Caralin, and continued her offense- admiring the sleek curves of the Visser's back and the gleam of his steel blue fur. Caralin kept her face passive; the Visser was still watching her, and she was not about to admit her host found Alloran's body attractive.

"Is it a long trip, Visser?" She asked. Visser Three chuckled and a chill went up her spine.

_Hardly. We have to rendezvous with the Pool Ship, but it's near Saturn for the time being.  
_

Caralin resisted the urge to lift a brow inquisitively.

_You've been very busy, Visser, and it's been noticed_, he said smoothly, and a few controllers skirted around him in the corridor. Caralin blinked.

"I've done nothing extraordinary, Visser Three." He stopped and turned to face her, a smirk on his face.

_In your 'humble opinion', no, but the Council is impressed you've managed to secure half the penitentiary system infested, not to mention a good chunk of civilians and enlisted military. You're ambitious._

Caralin flushed.

"I only do this for the Empire. I don't want to be a legend."

_That's a god damned lie- you do!_ Christine snarled. Caralin ignored her, looking placidly at the Visser, who looked at her, pleased, before continuing on towards the bridge.

_Humble. A good quality. Yes, you do seem deserving for the most part_.

Caralin halted and he cocked a stalk eye at her.

"Deserving of what, Visser Three?" She asked. He smirked.

_The council has a pleasant surprise for you, Caralin_, he replied enigmatically as Caralin followed him.

_It's a promotion_, she thrilled, bragging to her host._ I just know it!_

Christine snorted.

_You'd like that, vouldn't you?_

_ I would, my dear, I would._

The two Vissers reached the bridge. The personnel scattered from the entrance, getting out of range of the Visser's unpredictable tail. Visser Three strode over to a human controller and shoved him out of his chair, sending him sprawling.

_Make a seat for your superior_, he snapped. Caralin gave him a sly appreciative smile as she sat down.

"Thank you, Visser Three."

He smirked, then focused his attention on the pilots.

_Make way to the Pool Ship. We have a day to get there. Don't make us late._

He turned to look at Caralin and sauntered over to her.

_Now, tell me of your latest projects. We have some time._

Caralin smiled smoothly.

"Very well, Visser."


	3. Chapter 3

Kaeris held the cup of coffee carefully in his hands, watching the steam roil from the dark amber surface. He knew better than to chug it, as much as he wanted to. He'd learned the hard way coffee was to be sipped while hot. But oh, he enjoyed the rich flavor of the breakfast blend with a touch of sugar and amaretto cream; it was his favorite. With the coffee, a blueberry scone, the morning paper, and the cheery sounds of the cafe around him, Kaeris was a happy male.

He'd learned to adapt to human culture quickly- food, while overwhelming, was a huge part of human life, and he learned humans were almost numb to the array of flavors and sensations their food possessed. It had taken some practice, but Kaeris could enjoy human food in public without being overwhelmed. People still to think he'd not eaten in a while though; he still ate with gusto. He had narrowed down his favorites after a few weeks of elimination during his 'practice'- coffee with amaretto, foods with garlic, foods with tangy fruits like his blueberry scone, red meats, and anything with red sauce- red sauce made him crazy, and he avoided eating it in public.

He flicked his paper open and skimmed the local current events, his eyes rapidly reading, searching for anything about foreign crashes, unexplained wreckage. He didn't expect to find any, not with the Yeerks looking for their fighter; they'd clear up anything that might have leaked into the media. An ad caught his eyes just as he was about to set down his paper.

"Straighten out your troubles! Find a warm accepting family!"

Kaeris narrowed his eyes, reading further.

"The Sharing is a family organization, and is opening its arms to those seeking for the place where they feel at home! Started on the West Coast, The Sharing has extended its warm welcome to the DC area, to promote country-wide cooperation and community ties."

Kaeris snorted derisively to himself and stopped reading, setting down the paper an picking up his scone, eating it happily as he went over everything. Two weeks after Breeyar had left, Kaeris had wasted no time in figuring out the front for the Yeerk invasion. He'd acquired a few human morphs and performed a Frolis maneuver. He'd later found it no challenge to get access to a computer and create an identity- a name, a social security number, and a line of credit. After a debate with himself, he'd attached a bank account to his new identity and trickled in enough funds to buy a house and a car. He'd felt guilty about it, but to assuage his guilt, he told himself his people were going to help Earth, so he was helping by getting a home to serve as a base and shelter for potential survivors- an on-site resistance to the invasion.

A curvy young woman with a soft round face and strawberry blonde hair came to his table with a pot of coffee. She smiled warmly at him and he smiled back.

"Refill for you, Mister Daerr?" She asked brightly. He smiled at the young waitress and held out his mug, watching her refill it.

"Thank you, hon," he said, using the diction he had picked up from the cafe. The word "hon" was confusing to him, but it seemed to a kind and affectionate term to call someone. She smiled, pulled some little tubs of amaretto cream and packets of sugar from her apron, and sauntered over to the next table.

He smiled and polished off the rest of his scone happily. He'd taken the human name Chris Daerr- it took some getting used to- humans had such odd names.

A human female got up from her table, wiping the foam from her cappuccino off her mouth delicately before leaving a tip on the table and heading to the door. Kaeris downed another sip of coffee and wiped his own mouth. In an almost mirror of the woman's actions, he left a generous tip- he was a regular and the waitresses always attended him well- on the table and followed at a safe distance.

Kaeris had suspected the woman of being a Controller after seeing her hand out fliers for The Sharing, and had heard her gushing over the leader of the organization- Victor Trei. Kaeris had snorted out loud upon hearing the name as his translator chip processed the name- Trei, or Romanian for three. The Visser was arrogant, indeed. He was now following her because he was looking to discover an entrance to the Yeerk pool.

She slipped into an antiques store, and he followed suit. He moved to admire a display case of nineteenth century jewelry as the proprietor eyed him suspiciously. His beady eyes moved over the cut of Kaeris' suit and leather shoes before snorting a bit and turning to the woman, who was running her slim hands over an oversized armoire.

"This is a very fine model," she said smoothly- almost with a practiced air- to the proprietor, who nodded with a grunt.

"It's an eighteenth century model," he said, sounding bored. She frowned then and skimmed her fingers over a chip in the finely carved side.

"There's a flaw here. Shame. I was looking for a better looking armoire to put in my room. Do you have anything similar that isn't so horribly flawed?" She simpered, looking at him with sulking blue eyes, flipping her thick red hair over a bare shoulder. The proprietor nodded and motioned with a hand.

"Got one in the back. Care to take a look?"

She nodded and adjusted the hem of her sleeveless shirt. The proprietor turned his beady eyes at Kaeris.

"You need anything before I show this young lady the armoire?" He asked, his question almost an accusation. Kaeris shook his head.

"No, thank you, sir. I'm simply browsing," he said pleasantly, smiling.

The man grunted with a nod and led the woman back. Kaeris moved as though seeing something that caught his eye and moved across the store with purposeful strides. He moved just in time to see the glimpse of the proprietor opening an armoire door and letting the woman inside before the door to the back room shut. Kaeris nodded grimly to himself as he heard the faint cries below. He'd found his entrance.

The proprietor came back by himself and gave Kaeris a challenging gaze, as though daring him to ask where the woman had gone. Kaeris said nothing, but pointed to a shelf of books.

"Are those original copies, or second hand press?" He asked.

"Original," Came the short reply. Kaeris nodded, surveying the titles, trying not to jerk with surprise as a different woman came from the back room. She glared angrily at the proprietor.

"I never! I told you I wanted that armoire and you bring someone else in to look at it! Consider my interest gone!" She huffed, leaving the store. The proprietor shrugged and sat down in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and opening the paper. Kaeris cleared his throat.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be returning with my colleague later tomorrow to buy a few of those books."

The man tilted the paper down and looked at Kaeris with interest.

"You want me to hold the books for you? What you need 'em for?"

Kaeris smiled amicably.

"My colleague is a collector of old books. He has a small library at home that he keeps. He's a professor at Dartmouth; he has eclectic tastes," he said, shrugging. The proprietor lifted a brow, and Kaeris could see the Yeerk reevaluating him and his attire. He was changing his mind on his opinion of him from the bored businessman looking at antiques during lunch break, to a well connected gentleman who would make a great host- and would mean a promotion for him if he was recruited. He coughed.

"Say, you a social man?" He asked, and Kaeris smirked to himself.

"It depends, really," Kaeris replied. "I'm a busy man."

He felt odd using such informal speech, but humans rarely used precise dictation, and doing so made him stand out, so he used casual dictation with the drawl and contractions that the humans in the area used. The man pulled a flier out and Kaeris already knew what was on it.

"There's a group I joined, and there's a lot of like-minded people like you and your friend," he said, looking at him with a sidelong glance. Kaeris took the flier from him, but he was remembering where the trash can was outside the shop; he had plenty of fliers already.

"Thank you. I'll mention it to him." He said.

The "colleague" of his was non-existent, but Kaeris had invented him a while ago and was using him to worm his way into the fringe of the Yeerk front, trying to get more information on their progress. Yeerks were more interested in prospective hosts with connections.

"Have a good day, sir," he said, headed for the door.

"You might be interested in our next meeting; our organization's leader will be there. He's one helluva speaker.; you should hear one of his speeches," the Yeerk said, the simpering tone of an ass kissing Yeerk who loved kissing up to his Visser. Kaeris suppressed the sneer from surfacing and nodded, but he decided, yes, he would be there.

""Thanks, sir. I'll show up. Interested in meeting the man who got an organization to spread from one coast to another."

Without another word, he swept from the store in a flare of his overcoat, his mind thinking on what sort of morphs he should acquire to get close to the Visser.

* * *

Caralin followed Visser Three silently from the Blade Ship as it docked with the Pool Ship. Without a word, Visser Three led her to an empty room, where a Hork-Bajir dumped her luggage. Both Vissers glared at the Hork-Bajir, who shriveled under their scathing stares.

_What do you have to say to Visser Forty-Two?_ Visser Three snarled. The Hork-Bajir gave a pleading look to Caralin.

"Nefit, sorry, Visser," he stammered. Caralin glared at him.

"Get out of my sight, you worthless fool," she hissed, narrowing her eyes as she watching him skitter down the hall. Visser Three laughed, then turned to her.

_We will be needed in front of the Council in twelve hours. Be refreshed and ready._

With that, he turned and stalked off, Christine admiring his gleaming blue fur appreciatively. Caralin snarled and stormed into her quarters.

_Disgusting human_, she thought angrily. Christine snorted happily, pleased she was making Caralin mad. Caralin rolled her eyes and looked around her quarters, blinking. The quarters were furnished with human comfort in mind, and were furnished well- a decent bed, a small bathroom, and even a fridge and microwave.

"It's a damn hotel room," she muttered to herself. She was surprised. Was this a room made for a visser? She froze. There weren't many high ranking human vissers. Did that mean Vissers One and Two had stayed here before? She was suddenly very grateful that Visser One was currently on assignment somewhere else.

She sauntered over to the bed and took off her jacket, slipping out of her shoes before laying down.

_Might as well take a power nap, _she thought to herself. She folded her arms behind her head and closed her eyes, falling asleep with little effort. She was woken up ten hours later by the sound of two voices arguing in hushed tones. She got up and sauntered over to the door, turning her head to listen.

"Visser Three said to wake her at least two hours beforehand. If she's not up, he'll kill us."

"That's fine and dandy, but do you REALLY want to wake her up? Can't we just knock and run?"

"Rock paper scissors. Best out of seven."

Caralin snickered to herself and backed up, moving to push a chair by the door, sitting in it and crossing her long legs at the knee. Despite being grumpy that she'd been woken up earlier than she wanted, she figured this would be amusing. She fluffed her hair and reached for the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of the jacket flung over the back of her chair. She lit one of the vanilla flavored cigarettes and took a long drag as the two controllers played a game of life and death outside her door. She scratched her scalp indulgently, the cigarette hanging lazily from the corner of her mouth as she heard the protest of one controller as he was defeated in the simple game of chance.

"I won. YOU wake her up."

There was the sound of whimpering, then a knock. Caralin smirked as it was followed by the sounds of feet making a hasty retreat down the corridor, a woman's indignant shriek, and more footsteps. She laughed throatily, taking another drag. A minute later, there was the sound of air cracking, and a heavy wet thud. A cry and a second crack, followed by another heavy thud made her sigh, especially when she heard the sounds of hooves approaching the door. She rolled her eyes.

"Damn. Guess he caught them," she muttered.

_You...you mean they're..._

"Dead?" Caralin asked out loud, laughing. "Yes, lovie. They are. It's what happens when you disobey a Visser. Shame, seeing as I would only have yelled at them. What a waste of good bodies."

Christine didn't even have a chance to respond as the door swung open, Visser Three standing in the doorway. He took in the sight of Caralin sitting in the chair, her cigarette holding hand resting on her knee, smoke curling up towards the ceiling. Caralin was slightly annoyed he hadn't bothered knocking, but there was little she could do but be glad she hadn't been stepping out of a shower or in some other embarrassing situation. She stood up and inclined her head.

"Visser," she said simply. He gave her a sidelong glance.

_You were already awake._ His tone wasn't accusing, but amused. She simpered at him, removing the cigarette from her mouth so she could pout freely.

"If I'd known you wanted them to get me, I would have opened the door, but they took off like baby Hork-Bajir," she said, looking at him with sugary sweetness that hid the acid underneath- acid she knew he would see; she didn't care he'd killed them. He laughed, his tone sneering.

_Not to worry; they are easily replaceable. Now. Get ready. We need to be in front of the Council in an hour and a half. Meet me at my quarters in an hour. I would be ready to meet the Council, but as you can see, I have to clean up._

He paused at the door, his tail lifted slightly, and Caralin wished she could mentally slap her host- Christine was purring as she looked Alloran over- which in of itself wouldn't be so bad if she didn't happen to be fixating her gaze on his rump.

_ STOP THAT! _She hissed, earning a throaty laugh from her host, but she smiled at Visser Three.

"Yes, Visser?"

_ Those are bad for you, you know_, he said, looking at the smoking cigarette. She shrugged helplessly, but to make a point, took a long drag, letting the smoke curl from her nose, and he smirked. With that, he turned and strutted off, Caralin catching a glimpse of the crimson blood on his tail blade. She sighed and took one last drag before putting out her cigarette.

"Could have been worse. He could have asked me to clean his blade for him."

Christine snickered.

_I vouldn't mind that if vere you, Caralin._

"Shut up."

_Vhy does that bother you, Caralin? Vhy does my attraction to him bother you?_

Caralin ignored her, earning a smug laugh from her host.

"Time to get ready, then," she said to no one in particular, trying to clear her mind- as if she could with Christine pestering her!

She pulled on a dark French grey skirt that fell just to mid thigh length, showing off her slim legs, then put on a puce green undershirt before throwing on the matching grey jacket. Christine looked on approvingly- the puce green was her favorite color. She brushed her hair, tousled it carefully, then applied some perfume- the scent of roses, soft sugary peppermint, with undertones of almond. She slipped her feet into a pair of black high heels, and stuck her sunglasses on top of her head. She then strolled down the hall to Visser Three's quarters, to find he was leaving as she came to the door. He looked over her in approval before indicating she should follow him down the corridor.

_Remember. Speak only when spoken to, and to the Council Member in the center, as that will be the one speaking,_ he instructed privately, peering at her searchingly with a stalk eye until she nodded in understanding.

_Why do you always have that thing on your head?_ He finally asked after a few moments of silent observation. Caralin smirked a bit.

"It's a habit of my host's from before I infested her, and it's almost her trademark- she wears these sunglasses with almost every outfit. It almost feels odd not to wear them," she replied, shrugging her slender shoulders. The Visser snorted, and his nostrils flared a bit, his eyes narrowing slightly.

_You smell like cyanide, you know._

She laughed, tossing her head so her thick brown hair would flip over her shoulder.

"That's the idea, Visser Three. Poison under the flowers and sugar."

She lifted a brow as what he said dawned on her.

"Visser, how do you know what human poisons smell like?" She asked curiously.

He said nothing, stopping as they came to a heavy set of doors. He swayed his tail nervously, then turned to her, fixing his glittering main eyes on her, his gaze intense. He shifted his front right leg, as though resisting the urge to stomp his hoof in agitation.

_We're ten minutes early. They'll be expecting us in two. You know how to act in front of the Council. Remember what I said, and do not embarrass me._

Caralin was quiet, her eyes flashing a bit when he said not to embarrass him. He was referring to Christine breaking free. She had no intention of her host being able to break free. Not tonight. She was insulted he'd even brought it up- she had enough from Visser Fifteen reminding her constantly of that one and only incident. Christine huffed in annoyance.

_I vill not misbehave this time. I know better than that. My life ist on stake here as vell as yours. I will be quiet und compliant._

Caralin narrowed her eyes slightly, but kept her tone respectful.

"My host says she's not stupid and won't misbehave. She may not like me, but she doesn't want to die. She knows better."

Visser Three nodded and put his hand on the access panel. The doors opened and the two Vissers walked into the room. It was bare and dim, save for thirteen columns of light, in which the holograms of the Thirteen would appear. The sounds of his hooves and her heels echoed across the floor. Visser Three stopped and twitched his tail as there was the sound of leather shoes on the floor behind them. Caralin turned just in time as a tall slim human male came striding over.

_Visser Two. A pleasant surprise to see you here_, Visser Three said, but his tone and face were cold. He obviously did not want Visser Two there. As though reading his mind, Visser Two smirked.

"I know you're not happy to see me here, but I am not here for you," he said smoothly, turning to Caralin, who for some reason, didn't fear him as much as she did Visser Three, and it wasn't the lack of a tail blade that made her less afraid. She inclined her head to him wondering what the hell he wanted.

"Visser Two," she said politely. She didn't know the Visser at all, but had heard of his fanaticism, and his borderline insanity when it came to serving the Empire. She forced a smile as he took her hand and shook it amicably. She tried not to make her hand as limp as a dead fish in his enthusiastic grasp.

"I've heard what you and Visser Three have been doing. Wondrous work, very deserving of the Council's attention. You've been doing the Empire such a service with your hard work and perseverance, Visser Forty-two. I really admire your efforts and success."

He was babbling, and Caralin would have almost thought him kissing up, but she mentally shook her head. Why would he kiss up to her? She was forty ranks below him.

_Didn't you say he vas fanatical?_ Christine pointed out. _Perhaps he thinks you are a good ally to have around if you do such a good job enslaving my people._

Caralin ignored the latter half of the comment, but realized the former was a good point. She tossed her head, flipping her thick hair again, smiling a bit more warmly at the Visser. It didn't pass her notice that Visser Three looked very sour as she took his hand with more feeling.

"I only do what is necessary for the Empire and the advancement of the Yeerk race, Visser Two," she said smoothly, knowing it was what the insane Visser wanted to hear. Indeed, it was. He beamed, looking positively unstable. Christine was silent, and Caralin laughed to herself, as Christine would let her jaw fall open if she had control of it. Caralin wondered if Visser Two had ever had a host who'd been over indulgent with narcotics, and if perhaps he hadn't let them go to his brain. The columns of light began to shimmer, the low hum of the hologram emitter warming up sounding through the room, and Visser Two shook her hand once more.

"Good luck, Visser Forty-two. I will see you later, eh, Visser Three?" he asked.

Visser Three said nothing, looking like he'd only be happy to see him again if it meant he would be seeing him dead, twitching the tail Caralin knew he was itching to use on the nutter. Visser Two ducked from the room, shutting the door behind him just as the holograms of the Council appeared in their respective columns. Both Vissers bowed their heads- even Visser Three lowered his tail. Caralin tried not to let her knees shake; this was the first time she'd ever had contact with the Council of Thirteen before.

"Vissers Three and Forty-two," said a Hork-Bajir Controller in dark red- almost black- hooded robes standing in the center pillar of light.

"We called you here tonight because we are pleased with the progress done on Earth. Credit must be given where it is due, and the rewards shall be dealt out."

Visser Three twitched his tail slightly in surprise. It then occurred to Caralin Visser Three had no idea why he was needed here for her possible promotion. He had no idea. She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. He was going to find out she'd been giving him all the credit for her projects.

"Visser Three, your expansion projects on the Eastern side of America have been largely, if not overwhelmingly successful. Your ideas have been well thought out, and your decision to have Visser Forty-two carry them out on the Eastern Coast was indeed a stroke of genius. For your success in your efforts, we are going to drop the accusations made against you by Visser One. Consider this a clean slate, Visser Three," the Council member said gregariously.

Visser Three looked like he'd been kicked in the haunches, but he recovered his composure swiftly and bowed graciously.

_Thank you, Council Members_, he said humbly. _I thank you for this chance to start over, but I only do what is necessary for the Empire._

"Which brings us to the other reason we are here. Your lieutenant, Visser Forty-two. Step forward, Visser Forty-two."

Caralin stepped forward, not saying a word, dropping her gaze to the floor and taking a subservient posture, waiting to be directly addressed. The Council murmured appreciatively.

"Caralin 942 of the Sulp Niar, Visser Forty-Two," the Council member said.

"Yes, esteemed Council member?" She asked respectfully, looking up, but not changing her stance.

"It seems the rank of Visser Forty-two is a bit low for the job you are performing. Visser Three should not have such a low ranking Visser as his lieutenant. What do you think?"

She swallowed, but looked anywhere but the Council member's face.

"I gladly accept whatever position or rank that has been given to me. I am grateful to be working with Visser Three at all and honored that he trusts me with his projects," she said, the lie sliding from between her teeth as smooth as butter.

The lie went over well. The council members murmured again, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Visser Three stiffen his neck slightly in surprise. Christine sighed, but said nothing. Caralin thanked her silently, then looked back at her black leather shoes. The council member cleared his throat- a horrible sound from a Hork-Bajir.

"It seems we were right in thinking you were deserving of this, Visser Forty-two. Step closer."

She obeyed, falling with reach of the hologram's hands. The Council member extended his hand and placed the holographic appendage on her head. She tried not to tremble, excitement coursing through her, and from her peripheral vision, she could see Visser Three looking satisfied and approving, which only made her happier.

"Caralin 942 of the Sulp Niar, Visser Forty-two, I hereby relieve you of said rank, promoting you post haste to the rank of Visser Thirteen. Let it be known that the Council of Thirteen has officially and unanimously decided to promote you to said rank, to continue your service to the Empire in a more efficient and timely manner fitting of the high ranking Visser you serve under."

He pulled back.

"Caralin 942 of the Sulp Niar, Visser Thirteen, you are no longer under Visser Fifteen's command, and will now report directly to Visser Three."

"Thank you, Council Members. May the Kandrona shine upon you," Caralin said quietly, Visser Three echoing her similarly.

Without a warning, the holograms disappeared, leaving her and Visser Three alone in the room. She couldn't help herself- couldn't stop herself. She gave a leap, kicking her heels in the air with a little yelp of victory, ecstatic more than anything over the fact that she would no longer have to answer to Visser Fifteen and now out ranked him. She recovered her composure and coughed, smoothing down the front of her suit, looking over at Visser Three in embarrassment. He simply chuckled and came closer.

_Well deserved, Visser Thirteen. Well done._

She waited. She knew it was coming. He was going to ask any second n-

_Why were you giving me all the credit for your projects?_ He demanded, but his tone wasn't angry. She flushed, then scowled.

"It was you or Visser Fifteen. I wasn't going to give that son of a bitch the credit for my work. You know Vissers of lower ranks don't get to keep credit for their projects, and I'll be damned if he was going to get it. At least if I gave you credit, it gave me more wiggle room to do what I needed to do with little to no interference," she explained, happy she was now higher ranked than Visser Fifteen and could insult him as she pleased. Visser Three looked taken aback, blinking his main eyes.

_What do you mean, more wiggle room? What are you up to?_ He asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I recruit using my own methods, methods that Visser Fifteen thought were beneath him, and he tried to stop my recruitment- mainly because I was doing more than he was, with methods he didn't want to use, or didn't have the resources to do so," she said, shrugging lightly. "If I gave the credit to you, it meant you were giving me the orders to recruit as I was, so Visser Fifteen couldn't tell me otherwise what to do."

Visser Three laughed heartily, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She'd never heard him laugh like that before. It was exciting and terrifying all at once. He looked at her appreciatively.

_Well thank you, Visser Thirteen. It worked out well for both of us._

They headed back out to the corridor, back towards their quarters.

_I would like to show you the Western Coast pool before I take you back to the East Coast- I need to show you some of the workings of my pool and we can discuss more tactics there_, he said. _You can also fill me on these...methods you are using._

Caralin nodded.

"I would be honored, Visser Three," She replied honestly. He gave a curt nod.

_Very well. We'll depart from the Pool Ship in four hours. Get something to eat, or whatever it is you need to do before we leave,_ _Visser Thirteen._ _If you are late, I will be very displeased. Be at the Blade Ship ready to leave before then._

She smiled and bowed her head.

"Of course, Visser Three," she replied smoothly.

He left without a word and she went to her quarters with a newfound swagger in her step. A lower ranking controller stepped in her way and she snapped at him.

"Have respect for your Vissers!" She hissed, watching with pleasure as he muttered his apologies hastily before making a getaway. She smirked and pushed her door open, settling into her chair and kicking off her heels. Leaning back, she pulled out another cigarette and lit it, letting the pleasant burn of the smoke curl in her nose. Christine sighed.

_So I guess this starts a whole new regimen then?_

Caralin smiled indulgently, smoke curling from the corners of her mouth.

_It's a whole new beginning, my dear_

_

* * *

_**Thanks for the reviews, you guys, and for being patient- finals are killing me!**_  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Start a fight you won't win/ Had enough, let's begin/never mind, I don't care- Breaking Benjamin

Caralin wasn't sure what she had expected when Visser Three had told her he wanted to show her around the pool he was in charge of- gloating, showing off, pushing his subordinates around. What happened was different. They spent time going over damages. Apparently, it had been kept on the down-low from the east coast, but the pool was under constant siege from a group of Andalites that had survived the crash of the Dome Ship, and were a constant thorn in Visser Three's side. Caralin had known there was a problem with the renegade Andalites, but she and Visser Fifteen had been told it was under control. It wasn't. There were plenty of damages and losses, and it was evident in Visser Three's face that it took most of his control not to explode in a fit of rage as he talked about it.

_The scum are constantly attacking, finding new ways into the pool. I am almost positive at this point that there is inside help_, he raged. Caralin blinked.

"Inside help? Visser, you don't mean to say that...," She trailed off, not wanting to finish. His eyes narrowed dangerously and his deadly tail twitched.

_Yes. We have Peace Movement members here. I haven't caught them yet, but there were whispers overheard. I've been hunting them down. It won't be long til I find one_, he said, surprising her with his tone- he was speaking to her privately. Visser Three was not a private creature, preferring everyone hearing what he had to say. She didn't know what to say to that, so she simply set her mouth in a firm line. He took her silence for outrage and looked pleased. Christine was confused.

_Peace movement? Vat does he mean?_ She asked. Caralin snorted.

_Yeerks who don't believe in taking involuntary hosts_, Caralin sneered. _Yeerks who are less than scum, wanting to live in harmony with their hosts, giving them freedom to move and live as they please, resigning themselves to mere passengers in their host's head. They treat their host with respect- they don't crush them, tear them apart. They are gentle, even merciful with them, treating them as equals._

Christine was quiet. Caralin immediately combed her thoughts when she didn't get the reaction she had been looking for. She was so surprised that she actually blinked rapidly in surprise, causing the Visser to look at her curiously.

_Are you well, Visser Thirteen?_ He asked, narrowing his eyes. She forced an acid sweet smile.

"I am well, Visser Three," she replied. "The cosmetics I have my host wear got into my eyes."

This placated him and he continued to ramble on, talking about expansion and the reaches and entrances of the pool. Caralin nodded when appropriate and threw impressed smiles or wide eyes when needed. She was brooding over her host's thoughts. Christine had somewhat compared her to a member of the Peace Movement in the fact that in spite of her mocking, teasing and gloating, she wasn't as ruthless as she could be, that she only browsed through her thoughts when she needed to, leaving her at least one small corner of privacy to herself.

_You think I care about you, human? You are nothing more than a vessel for me_, she sneered, but Christine was smug.

_You may not care, but you leave me alone for the most part. I have talked to others when you take your little dip in the pool. They tell me of how their Yeerks are alvays tearing into their dreams, their thoughts, making fun of the things they enjoy, taunt them about destroying vat they love. You don't. You scour my mind when I'm quiet because you vant to know vat I'm thinking, but you leave me alone. You are a bit more merciful than most...or you don't care, and I hardly think apathy becomes a Wisser_, she said softly.

Caralin barely had time to gawk at her host's little speech- Visser Three was changing the subject, and she scrambled to pick up on what he was saying.

_It still perplexes me_, he was saying. Caralin cocked her head.

"Why does it, my Visser?" she asked, looking as though she were being careful about asking, not careful about being caught not listening. He gave a frustrated huff, his nasal slits widening as he snorted. She tried to hide her flinch, but his snort was in annoyance, so she relaxed.

_Why does only one of them show up in Andalite form? Why do they hide in the form of Earth animals? They love those tails of theirs so much, so why does only one flash the blade? _He mused, almost sounding as though he were talking to himself, not her.

She frowned. She didn't know this- the siege of the pool here on the West Coast was kept quiet to dissuade the forces on the East Coast from worrying about being under attack themselves. Granted, the East Coast had been untouched, and everything was smooth, but if the Bandits grew frustrated, they might move to the East Coast to start anew-and by the . She turned her thoughts back to the bandits- this news was slightly confusing to her. Hiding in animal forms? It was rather- no, very- unlike typical Andalite behaviour.

"They only have one in Andalite form during combat?" She asked. Visser Three nodded- most likely a habit picked up from being on Earth; he still swayed his stalk eyes in confirmation along with the nod.

_That is the other thing that confuses me. The one that stays in Andalite form is young. A mere _aristh_. Normally their Prince would head the charge with a more experienced blade_, he pondered, his brow furrowing as he frowned. Caralin widened her eyes as his comment about blades gave her a rush of revelation.

"Visser Three. What if...what if a young one heads the charges because he is the only one with the blade to do so!" She said in a rush, and the excitement of the idea made her cheeks flush. He cocked his head at her, narrowing his eyes.

_What do you mean? What are you getting at, Visser Thirteen?_ He asked carefully. She bit her lip and looked around to see if they weren't going to be overheard. He saw what she was looking for, and motioned for her to follow her.

She let him lead her to a small room- an office by the looks of it. She looked in and got nervous- the office was small, barely big enough for three humans, and he was pushing her inside as he came in behind her. He shut the door behind them and looked at her expectantly. Her eyes glittered at him in nervousness at how close he was, and the way he stared at her expectantly. The office was slightly dim, only half of the lights turned on, casting the room in a slight eerie fluorescent glow. She took a deep breath to calm herself and regretted it instantly; in the small office the musk of the Visser's host quickly filled the air and the strength of it hit her sinuses like a brick, and her host was most pleased, having most unwanted thoughts that were most distracting. She steadied herself, trying to get her host- as well as herself- to ignore his closeness, his scent and the fact that she could feel the heat radiating off him as he narrowed his eyes in impatience.

"Females," she breathed. He gave her a confused look and she continued.

"Why would Andalites take any form but their own, unless they were female?" She said, beginning to pace a bit- there wasn't much room, but she paced mainly to get away from him, her loafers clicking on the floor. She reached up and tugged on the black wire filigree earring that dangled from her ear- a habit of thought. "Females are smaller, more delicate, with a tail blade that's almost non-existent- useless for fighting. Females wouldn't be perceived as a threat normally, so they have their lone male act as the banner for their group."

Visser Three's eyes slowly widened in the dim light.

_Is it even possible? Females are not brought into war. They are not allowed on Dome Ships. The young male was most likely only on the ship because he was related to a prince_, he said, leaning back slightly on his hindquarters, his tail sliding to the left as he thought it over. Caralin cocked her head. He might be the authority on Andalites, being the only Yeerk to have ever controlled one, but she had devoted years of her life to studying them, just as he had at one time.

"Females aren't as...compliant as they used to be, and in these times, males don't have time to spend at home with their families. I would not put it past a wily female Andalite to get a hold of the morphing abilities and using them to sneak onto a ship to be with her mate. I also would not put it past a male Andalite overlooking his mate breaking laws in order to spend time with her," she said evenly, continuing to tug at her earring gently, her fingers slipping over the black gem set into the finely wrought delicate black wire. "In fact, it makes sense. The females and the aristh... would be sent to the Dome when the Blade Ship attacked. They would all be in the Dome when it crashed into the ocean. They wanted to fight, to avenge the families lost, but couldn't attack as females...so they acquired battle forms."

She looked up at Visser Three, who was looking at her with less incredulity than he had been before as she argued her theory. He was even leaning towards her as he listened. It spurred her on, and she let go of her earring, letting it swing against her neck as she talked with more energy.

"Do they have favored morphs?" She asked, halting in her pacing. Visser Three nodded, his eyes lit up.

_They do. Each one has a form they prefer...I see the same forms every time they attack._

"That's a typical thing for females of any race," Caralin said. "They pick something they're comfortable with and stick with it. You don't have a favored morph, do you, Visser Three?"

He smirked as she came close and arced his tail forward, bringing the blade against her throat. He knew she had been trying to make a point, just as she knew it was his way of telling her that yes, he did have a favored form, but it wasn't a morph. It was no secret he loved using that blade of his. Caralin would have rolled her eyes if she didn't think that it would make him slice her head off, so instead, she looked him in the eye and tilted her head back, exposing her throat. She didn't move, feeling the cold sharp edge of the huge blade against her hyoid, his eyes glittering menacingly at her. He quirked his brow, and the two of them sized each other up for a few silent, tense moments. Finally, he withdrew his blade, the end of his tail brushing over her clavicle, and Christine made a small sound. Caralin ignored it, watching as he leveled out his tail and smirked.

_No, Visser Thirteen, I do not have a preferred morph_, he said smoothly, still eyeing her. _I enjoy using them all to fit the situation. I see what you are getting at, and I have to say I will add it to my list of theories about our little renegade group._

His eyes swept over her form a few times as he gave her a look that spoke volumes. He knew she wanted a female Andalite host- any Yeerk would desire an Andalite host, but a few were actually particular of what gender they'd prefer to have. Most Yeerks weren't picky; any Andalite was better than none, but some had their little fantasies. Caralin was no exception. She flushed under his scrutiny and started pulling on her earring again. He laughed.

_Identify with the female gender, do you?_ He smirked. She said nothing. Yeerks weren't exactly sexist, not by any means when they themselves had no gender, but the sexism humans had wasn't hard to catch, especially for Yeerks like Visser Three, an arrogant Yeerk in an already arrogant male host- a host whose race was just as sexist, if not more in a different way. He swayed his tail dismissively.

_Not that I care- sex is worthless; just a different set of problems for each one. It's why we're better than they all are. We don't have those problems._

""We still have to deal with them when we control them. It's almost impossible to be rid of those hormones without medical intervention. All we can do is control the response," Caralin replied matter of factly. He grunted in reply.

_Believe me, Caralin, I know all too well, but hormones are the least of my problems with this host._

Caralin stared.

"He still fights you? After so long?" She asked incredulously. He laughed.

_Everyday almost. Sometimes he'll go for days where he's silent and I almost forget he's there. Then I poke him and he unleashes his fury on me- he goes quiet to build himself up, but it does him no good; he isn't the Andalite he used to be, and he doesn't worry me so much as annoys me._

Caralin knew better; she knew he was saying that for Alloran's benefit. He was trying to belittle him in front of her, to keep him cowed. She wondered why he would go to the trouble of belittling his host in front of her. Was he trying to dodge the subject she'd brought up of dealing with biological issues? She mulled that over as he sauntered over to the door and motioned for her to follow him. She did so gladly; she wasn't comfortable in the small dimly lit office alone with him. The sooner they got out, the better. Only Christine had any objections.

_He smelled vonderful_, she admitted to Caralin._ Do Andalites alvays smell that good?_

_ He didn't smell that strongly last night on the Blade Ship_, Caralin replied. _I wonder what's going on with him_, she thought to herself, then shuddered at the possibilities. _It's probably the heat of the West Coast_, she finally said to Christine, hoping she'd drop the subject. Unfortunately, she had no intentions of doing so.

_He vas varm, too_, she said softly. _He had a lot of heat roiling from him. Vas he ill?_

Caralin did wonder about that- Andalites ran a lower temperature than humans- 91.3 compared to 98.6, or Christine's 97.3 body temp. The Visser's host had to be running a temp of at least 94 degrees or more for her to feel the heat roiling off him. She wondered if he could possibly have Yamphut, but she immediately dismissed the thought- an Andalite his age had most likely had it and had the offending Tria gland removed long ago. There was another thought, and she didn't like it, so immediately squashed it. It was his problem, not hers. Visser Three had stopped, looking at her wryly with a stalk eye.

_Are you alright, Visser Thirteen? You stopped moving._

Caralin cursed to herself and forced an acid sweet smile as she caught up to him.

"Merely observing the pool, my Visser," she said, faking the tone of one impressed. It worked- he drew himself up and smirked. She mentally rolled her eyes. He was a spoiled child with a knife and the temper of a nuclear bomb- dangerous and unstable, and prone to temper tantrums. Best to placate him with flattery and lies that buttered him up. It was easier to keep her head that way. He motioned for her to follow him, his swagger more pronounced- he was even swaying his tail slightly.

_He ist quite the arrogant bastard, isn't he?_ Christine muttered.

"Yes, he certainly is," she agreed, her voice low. She froze as he stopped and turned to her.

_Certainly is what?_ He asked, his eyes searching her. She flushed with adrenaline, but he saw her flush as something different and laughed.

_What nonsense is your host saying, Visser Thirteen?_

She forced a laugh as well.

"She said, 'He is quite the conqueror, isn't he?' and I agreed...my apologies for saying so out loud, my Visser," she said humbly, lowering her eyes so her lashes brushed her cheeks as she looked at her feet. He laughed, and she darted her eyes up at him quickly, looking at him as though he'd said something scandalous, then darted her eyes back down coquettishly. He made an odd sound then beckoned for her to follow him. She sighed to herself. She really needed to stop talking out loud to her host, but it was hard when she was making points that were hard to agree with.

_Come along then, Visser. Come meet some of my Sub-Vissers before we send you home to the East Coast. I do need to give you time to prepare, after all._

Caralin blinked.

"Prepare, Visser Three?" She asked. He smiled coolly.

_I will be coming to speak at the next large meeting of The Sharing on the East Coast at the end of the week. I'll be gracious and give you time to prepare for my arrival._

Caralin bowed her head.

"I am grateful and honored you will be coming, Visser Three. Our efforts will be increased and morale will be boosted by your visit," she said, and she meant it- moral would be...changed, but efforts would be increased to impress the Visser. Never mind she would double her expectations of them now that she was newly promoted. Visser Three kept walking.

_I am pleased to hear it. Now, come meet some of your future underlings._

Kaeris slid his arms into his coat, pleased that he was getting the hang of getting dressed in a timely manner. He stopped and examined himself in the mirror. His host was decently attractive by human standards, with aquiline features, bright blue eyes, tanned skin, and dark mahogany brown hair that hung to the base of his neck, tied back loosely. He headed out the door in a hurry; he didn't want to be late for the meeting. He'd managed to acquire some more DNA to cultivate a new morph in case something went wrong at this meeting and he needed a new face. A Visser was coming to speak at this meeting, and he wanted to see who it was and how close he could get.

It didn't take him long to reach the meeting by taxi; he didn't want to risk the Yeerks getting his license number. He tipped the cabby and looked at the park gazebo where the meeting was being held. It looked like a damn party, with lights strung between the rafters, tables laden with food, and music playing softly- a mix of recent hits and some softer music alternatively. Many members were already sitting around tables, chatting animatedly- no one sat by themselves, and the groups were no smaller than 6 people each; everyone was social and welcoming. Everyone was wearing casual shirts and skirts or slacks; Kaeris felt overdressed in his casual business suit, but he was playing the part of a busy man with high profile contacts. Someone tapped his shoulder.

"Hi there. I don't believe I haf seen you around before. Are you a first timer?"

He spun around at the lilting accent, and his eyes went wide at the woman standing in front of him. She was wearing a sleeveless camisole in a pale puce color with a flowing knee length black skirt that had a layer of a black veil like material draped over it, and her feet were strapped into a pair of black high heeled sandals, her toes painted with a dark red color. She was around five foot eight to his five foot eleven, with a self assured posture, thick brown hair that was unruly, yet it seemed as if she made it unruly on purpose. She looked at him with intelligent, glittering jade green eyes, and full lips that were curved in a small smile that looked as though she were hiding something. Her eyes were piercing and sharp, like a raptor's, and he feared she would see him for what he was right then and there. The way she stood with her hand on a slightly cocked hip, her other arm hanging carelessly made him feel clumsy and unsure of himself. He forced himself to nod.

"Y-yes. I was referred here by a book keeper," he replied, and felt his cheeks flame as he stammered. He cursed to himself.

'Why are you losing your cool? She's the enemy,' he thought to himself. 'Get your head on straight.'

Still, he couldn't help but think she was the most attractive human woman he'd seen yet. Her eyes kept pulling him in, and it wasn't because of the Yeerk's cold cruelty- her eyes were naturally sharp and dangerous; the Yeerk behind them made them even more so. He held out his hand as he had learned to.

"I'm Chris Daerr," he said, forcing a cordial smile as she took his hand with her own, her strong slender fingers wrapping around his hand. He noticed her hands were soft, her nails long and lacquered with the same color she had on her toes. A silver wolf head snarled up at him from her left middle finger- a ring. He lifted a brow.

"Very well made ring," he commented. Her mouth curved slowly, unfolding into a smile that showed the slightest flash of white glinting teeth and made him feel like he'd been slapped. She knew how to work her facial expressions.

"Thank you, Mr. Daerr," she replied, flipping her thick brown hair over her bare shoulder, and her earrings swung from her ears, catching his attention- thin black wire filigree, with black gems set in the middle of the finely wrought wire.

"I am Christine Weiß, the head of the East Coast branch of the Sharing. It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you looking to become a member, or just to see vhat ve are about tonight?" She asked as she took back her hand, reaching up to tug at an earring. He shook his head politely.

"I'm just here to watch tonight, to hear what has to be said, before I make any decisions. I've heard good things, though," he said. The corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"Danke, Mr Daerr, and I understand you vanting to merely vatch. One must never make decisions too rashly, especially vith social groups. Never know vhat you could be missing if you don't give the others a chance! One must shop around before finding a home vith other people," she said warmly. A man motioned in her direction and she shook his hand again.

"I hate to cut it short, but the head of the organization ist here. I must go speak vith him. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Daerr. Have some food, make some friends. Ve are all family here," she said, smiling a slow smile one more time before striding off, her hips swaying.

Kaeris watched her as she walked up to a tall slender man in a suit similar to his own. He looked middle aged, but aged well, with a smooth face that had a few flattering laugh lines, sharp intimidating amber eyes, and sleek black hair that hung to his square jaw, a few threads of silver shot through it. His facial features were Romanesque, and his clothes were pressed and well groomed. He exuded well controlled arrogance and authority, and though his smile seemed warm, it didn't reach his steely eyes, and the air around him seemed to freeze. He noticed that Christine was social with him, chattering and laughing, but like him, her smile didn't reach her eyes, and everything looked stiff, forced. He had no doubt who the man was.

Visser Three, or as he was known by the public- Victor Trei. Kaeris stared, his eyes cold as he watched the two of them. He wondered if Christine was high ranked, and if so, what rank she was to be able to talk so much with him and even force an air of comfort with him. He almost didn't notice when the Visser turned his eyes in his direction, his face suspicious. Kaeris turned his head slowly, making it look as though he were scanning everything- a prospective member scouting out the goings on of the meeting. The Visser looked back at Christine, and faked a laugh as she said something to him, his voice smooth, cold and sleek. Kaeris shuddered to himself and sat at a table near a group of males that appeared to be his age. He pulled a can of cola from the bucket of ice in the middle of the table and cracked it open. One of the males looked at him with seemingly gentle brown eyes as he drank quietly.

"You new?" He asked politely. Kaeris nodded and wiped his mouth, setting down his drink.

"Yes. Still confused as to who everyone is," he admitted. The other laughed, running his fingers through his short, curly brown hair.

"I'm Mark, Mark Kerrington. I'm the treasurer for this area's branch," he said, extending his hand.

Kaeris took his hand and shook it out of courtesy, trying not to glare, knowing a Yeerk was peering out at him.

"Chris Daerr," he replied. Mark nodded his head then pointed to an auburn haired woman with sharp facial features and plump hips talking to a short stocky man with merry blue eyes and a ring of grey hair on hte edges of his balding head.

"That's Arianna, head of activities. The man next to her is Jesse, head of advertising."

He then pointed to Christine and the Visser, who were sitting now, shoulder to shoulder, talking animatedly about something, Christine using her hands to punctuate her words and the Visser nodding, his hands folded in front of his chin.

"That's Christine Weiß, spokesperson and head of the branch in this area. Next to her is Victor Trei, head of the entire organization," he said in a hushed voice, as though the two could hear them and he didn't want to invoke their wrath. "Mr. Trei is here visiting from the West Coast to see how things are doing and to collaborate ideas with Miss Weiß. We're excited to see him here, hence the party."

Kaeris nodded, pretending to be interested, but he was watching the two. They were very engrossed in whatever it was they were planning. He was dragged away from watching them as Mark brought over more members for him to meet. He ended up spending the following hour meeting and socializing with prospective members, new members, and full members. They sat about, eating and chatting, and despite the fact that half, if not more of the members were Yeerks, Kaeris found he was enjoying socializing with the prospective members- the ones who weren't infested yet. He found out more about the meetings, where they were held, and who was in charge of each meeting- all valuable information. As he neared his two hour limit, he excused himself to the restroom and did a quick remorph. As he came back to the table, the chattering died down as the Visser stood, motioning for silence. His cold amber eyes scanned over the crowd as he smiled, trying to look like a doting father, but Kaeris knew the uninfested members weren't seeing the frigid cold in his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Full members, new members, and those looking to join our ranks. I welcome all of you to our get together tonight. I have to say, this is the first time I've come cross country to see how the newest branch is working, and I am impressed. I wasn't sure how well the idea of this group would catch on over on this side of the country, but I was pleasantly surprised, and it's all because of you. The organization is working together well, and morale is high. Recruitment is at record numbers, and our fundraising to help the local community has gone over with amazing results and even more amazing numbers. It's all because of you. I am pleased with how everything everyone is working together," he said, his smooth voice carrying over the crowd easily.

"I'd like to introduce the new and prospective members to those who can help with any questions that might be asked. Arianna Michaux, head of activities.""

The auburn haired woman winked slyly and stood up as everyone applauded, smiling wide enough to flash her sharp teeth. She reminded Kaeris of a fox with her sharp face and plump rear. She sat down after the applause faded.

"Jesse Williford, head of advertisement," The Visser said, and the balding man stood, giving a wide warm smile that, had Kaeris not known what he was, would have been taken in by the fatherly appearance.

"Mark Kerrington, our treasurer."

Mark stood up and gave a small kind smile, waving a bit before sitting down, looking slightly embarrassed. The Visser then turned to Christine and made her stand up. She flushed and stood next to him, grinning in embarrassment as he slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"And of course, Miss Christine Weiß, the head of this chapter, and one of the best recruiters The Sharing has ever seen."

She flushed a brighter shade of red, the color spreading to her neck as she tugged on an earring. He laughed and applauded her with everyone else. When she sat down, her face blood red, the applause faded and he turned back to the crowd.

"Keep up the good work and remember, together, we can be part of something great. We're working to better the community."

Everyone burst into applause as he sat down, a smile on his face that was borderline between smug and warm. Kaeris forced himself to applaud, but the motions were stiff. Mark eyed him carefully.

"Everything alright?" He asked. Kaeris shook his head.

"He's got a very overpowering presence," he said, telling the truth. Mark nodded reverently.

"That he does. Everyone here respects him."

'Or fears him,' Kaeris thought dryly, rolling his eyes mentally. Mark turned to another member and began chatting, trying to invite Kaeris to the conversation. Kaeris nodded and made a few comments here and there, but he was watching the Visser. He was looking quite cozy with Christine, the two of them sitting close, talking quietly. Christine paused every few minutes to drink from the cup of coffee she had between her hands, and the Visser simply turned his cup between his hands, not drinking it, his eyes flitting between watching her face, to watching members dancing under the strings of lights to the light hearted music wafting from the speakers. Kaeris got up.

"Getting some coffee. You want any, Mark?" He asked. Mark shook his head politely before returning to his conversation with a young woman who had inquired about registration.

Kaeris made his way over to the table where the coffee pots were and poured himself a cup, adding sugar to it. He loved coffee and needed no real reason to get any, but the table was close to the Visser, and he hoped he could overhear some of their conversation.

"Very pleased...impressive numbers..." He heard from the Visser. He strained to hear more as he stirred his coffee and reached for another packet of cream. He pretended to examine the labels of the two packets, as though trying to decide what flavor to use.

"Not sure...methods...doing, it's working."

"Wictor...too much of...really, it's...praise me for..." Christine's voice wafted gently over the tables, her accent pleasing to his ear. The Visser smirked, looking to the dance floor as a light, medium paced song began to play. He got up and took her hand, causing her to flush, the pink spreading over her ivory cheeks.

"Should dance...times...appearances..." he said. "I would love it if you'd dance at least a few dances with me, Christine. My trip wouldn't be complete without a dance with a beautiful woman," he added loudly enough to be overheard.

Christine flushed again and took his hand, letting him lead her onto the floor. They danced together at the easy going pace, the Visser spinning her gently, her skirt flaring around her her in a black halo, her feet moving with ease- hiding the fact that the Visser was barely moving and following her lead. She smiled coyly at him as they danced, looking away periodically like a coquettish maid as he spoke to her light heartedly. The music faded into a sweet, slow song, and the Visser pulled Christine closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, turning slowly with her. He put his face close to her ear and murmured something to her. Her flush slowly faded and she nodded. The dance was a ruse to be able to whisper things to each other- being so close together and being near the speakers covered anything they didn't want overheard. Kaeris moved to return to his table as the Visser spun her again, and he caught a whiff of her perfume, heard her laugher. He felt an odd sensation in his stomach as he sat down, watching her tilt her head back, exposing her slender throat that undulated with her warbling laugh as the Visser whispered something in her ear. Mark caught him staring and grinned, nudging him with his elbow.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" He asked. Kaeris blinked rapidly.

"Um...er, well yes, she is. Very pretty," he said, surprised that he agreed with the man. He'd never really thought of any female, Andalite or human, pretty enough to actually comment on them, or repeat the thought to himself. He'd half heartedly agreed with his comrades that a female Andalite was pretty, but he had never seen characteristics in a female that made him think she was special. Yet, here he was noticing things like her perfume and her laugh. Mark continued to grin.

"She's single, you know. You should join; you'd have more chances to see her."

Kaeris swallowed the scowl that threatened to surface and hid his growing distaste by taking a long slow sip of his coffee. She was bait for single men. She was high ranked so it would take a long time to get close enough to her to let one even think they had a chance, to see more of her- one would have to be a full member- a host- to have a "shot", but by then, that was the least of one's concern. He scowled into his coffee, watching the Visser splay a hand over her lower back as he dipped her. Mark snickered; he took his scowl for jealousy.

"She's always at every meeting. You should come to the next one, get to know her better," he said. "She tends to go for the real scholarly type; the smart guys, the arty guys, the sophisticated guys. You fit the bill, Chris. You should come to more meetings- see if you can snag a date with her afterward. The Sharing is her passion, but she doesn't do a lot outside of it. Perhaps you can be the guy to drag her out for some fun."

It was a ploy to attract him to the organization, and had he been unaware of what awaited him as a full member, it would have been a successful one. The attractive and powerful woman was good incentive to join. He knew better, but it did provide him a reason to keep hanging around, and it wasn't hard to feign attraction to Miss Weiß, as odd and unsettling as it was to him. He decided to run with it. He turned to Mark, feigning a hopeful look.

"Really? I'm sure she'd have at least a handful of men vying for her attention. I doubt I could get her attention," he said doubtfully. Mark smirked, part of the Yeerk showing through.

"She does, but they're not dedicated. They've been putting off becoming full members for weeks, and they're not into the same things she is. You should join. If you become a full member, I'm sure she'd be interested in learning more about you as you go through the ranks."

He nudged him again; the Visser was pulling back, smiling at her indulgently, his hands still splayed on her lower back. She was smiling at him, but it seemed forced, and that was trying to slide from his hold. Mark snickered, leaning close.

"You see?" He whispered. "Even the head honcho likes her, but she's picky. He's well groomed and well spoken, but he prefers logical thinking over creative thinking. That, and Mr Trei can be arrogant and cold sometimes."

Kaeris resisted the urge to snort his coffee. 'Sometimes' was an understatement. He watched as the Visser asked for another dance, but she shook her head, bending forward to rub at her ankles. Kaeris marveled at her human balance, especially since she was wearing those odd shoes. Perhaps it was his human body that was noticing, but he found his eyes drawn to the cleft of her breasts that was shown in the low collar of her camisole as she bent forward. He mentally shook himself, ignoring his odd feelings and watched as the Visser escorted her back to her seat, and Kaeris didn't miss the looks they got from those around them. Kaeris understood their display then; it was a show. Two powerful, attractive leaders putting on a show of resisting feelings of sexual attraction for each other, holding each other at arm's distance- it was a display for the public. Kaeris had found that humans loved watching drama and emotional struggle between other humans, and it seemed the Yeerks knew this, too, and were employing it with the Visser and Christine. Kaeris set his mouth in a firm line as he drank more coffee; Christine couldn't be a lower rank than a Visser; there was no way she was anything less. He'd have to be wary when continuing his charade- she'd see through him if he slacked off. He stood up, and Mark looked at him questioningly.

"Leaving, Chris?" He asked, lifting his brows in curiosity. Kaeris nodded, making a show of looking at his watch- his mental clock told him he had twenty minutes in morph.

"I'd love to stay longer, but I have a meeting with a collector tomorrow very early in the morning in Bethesda," he lied. Mark nodded, a gleam in his eyes.

"That's right, you're an antique dealer," he said. "You must talk to all kinds of scholars and professors and the like," he said enviously, and Kaeris knew he was envious of the Yeerk that had referred him. He nodded.

"I deal in antique books and documents, yes. I'd love to tell you more but I really have to be going. Perhaps I can tell you more at the next meeting?"

"Of course! I look forward to it, and I'm glad you'll be coming again!" Mark said brightly, getting up to shake his hand again. Kaeris smiled at him and made his way to the door, pulling his coat from the hall closet. A hand on his shoulder made him turn around, meeting the sharp gaze of Christine.

"Leaving already? I barely had the chance to talk vith you," she said, her brow furrowed slightly. Kaeris flushed at the simpering tone in her voice and made a helpless face.

"I apologize, Miss Weiß, but I have an early meeting with a collector, so I must retire for the night. I enjoyed myself and I will be coming to the next meeting," he said as he slipped on his coat. Her eyes lit up and a small smile curled her lips slowly.

"Vonderful! I vas hoping to talk to you more," she said happily. Kaeris flushed again and mentally chided himself. What was wrong with him, getting flustered over a human Controller like this? She held up a finger, indicating he should wait, and pulled a pen from a hidden pocket in her skirt. She flashed him the slightest bit of a wicked smile and took his hand. He lifted a brow as she uncapped the felt tip pen and scrawled digits on the back of his hand. She pushed his hand back at him, looking up at him from under her brows.

"If you need to ask anymore questions, feel free to call me," she said in a low voice. Movement behind her made him cast his gaze beyond her, and she turned. The meeting was breaking up. She turned back to him.

"Looks like it's over, anyvay," she said. "Can I interest you in coffee before you go home?"

She was persistent, and he was running out of time. He shook his head gently, but as he opened his mouth to tell her he couldn't, the Visser came behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched so slightly Kaeris almost missed it, but he knew the Visser felt it. He smirked slowly, looking amused.

"Sorry to frighten you, Christine. I need you to come talk to a young woman who wants to join tonight. She was quite taken with out treasurer," he said smoothly. Christine cast Kaeris the slightest flash of a scowl before turning to face the Visser, beaming.

"Of course!" She said brightly, and she followed him away, she looked at Kaeris and waved.

"See you next veek, Mr Daerr!"

Kaeris waved, then slid out the door, his knees weak as he headed for the nearest place that had a restroom where he could demorph.

'Saved by the Visser,' he thought in wry amusement. He found a small sandwich shop and slid into the bathroom, doing a quick demorph, then buying a small drink from the cranky looking shop owner to avoid any anger from him. He needed to get home, not get into an argument over him using the store's facilities and not buying. The man looked less cranky as he was handed the money, and Kaeris left the store to hail a taxi, drinking his Dr. Pepper leisurely. The ride home was quiet, and he mulled everything over in his head. It was dangerous, this game he was going to play, but if a high ranked Controller was interested in him, he might be able to figure out if any other comrades of his had been found, or if there were any weaknesses he could exploit. He frowned as he took another drink of his soda. If only he wasn't so flustered over the human host named Christine Weiß.


End file.
